“Glengariff 's going steadily up,—steadily up,” muttered Lord Glengariff, in Dunn's ear. Then, struck by the sudden pallor of his face, he added, “Are you ill?—are you faint?”
“A mere nothing,” said Dunn, carelessly. “By the way, what hour is it? Near one, and I have an appointment with the Chancellor of the Exchequer. Yes, Lady Massingberd, perfectly safe; not a splendid investment, but quite sure. Cagliari Cobalts are first-rate, Sir George; take all you can get of them. The Dalmatian line is guaranteed 'by the Austrian Government, my Lord. I saw the Ambassador yesterday. Pray excuse a hasty leave-taking.”
His carriage was quickly ordered, but before he set out he despatched a short telegraphic message to Hankes. It ran thus: “Detain her; suffer no letters from her to reach the post.” This being duly sent off, he drove to Downing Street. That dingy old temple of intrigue was well known to him. His familiar steps had mounted that gloomy old stair some scores of times; but now, for the first—the very first time in his life, instead of being at once ushered into the presence of the Minister, he was asked to “wait for a few moments.” What a shock did the intimation give him! Was the news already abroad,—had the fell tidings escaped? A second's consideration showed this was impossible; and yet what meant this reserve?
“Is the Council sitting, Mr. Bagwell?” asked he, of a very well-dressed young gentleman, with a glass fixed in his eye, who acted as Private Secretary to the Minister.
“No; they're chatting, I fancy,” lisped out the other. “The Council was up half an hour ago.”
“Have you mentioned my name, sir?” asked Dunn, with a formidable emphasis on the pronoun.
“Yes,” said he, arranging his hair before the glass; “I sent in your card.”
“Well, and the answer?”
“There was no answer, which, I take it, means 'wait,'” replied he, in the same light and graceful tone of voice.
Dunn took his hat hastily from the table; and with a stern stare, intended to mean “I shall remember your face again,” said,—